


Hero Complex

by ultravioletlife77



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, Light Angst, Ogygia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:47:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27017539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultravioletlife77/pseuds/ultravioletlife77
Summary: If Calypso has learned one thing, it's not to rely on heroes or Gods. None of them ever come through in the end.
Relationships: Calypso & Leo Valdez
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	Hero Complex

Calypso did not like to brag, but she believed that in her 3,000 years she had learned a thing or two.  
She kept a small, faded journal beside her bed. Every time Calypso learned an important life lesson, she wrote it down. When she started moving towards doing something unwise, she would open her notebook and reread what she had learned:

_The Gods and Goddesses are cruel.  
Humans lie (handsome men lie most of all)  
Plants do not betray you. Plants grow where you plant them and live as long as you care for them. They can't leave you (but they do need a lot of water).  
_But most importantly, the one she has to remind herself of most often of all, the one that brings her to tears when nothing else does, is this:__

____

_Heroes **never** come through._

___****__** ** _ _ _

She had assumed she would be ready when she was cursed to spend eternity on a deserted island with only attractive men for occasional company. To be quite honest, she'd been foolish enough to believe it wasn't even much of a punishment, at first. 

Years alone would be a little depressing and lonely, to be sure, but an enchanted life on a beautiful island? No worries or work to be attended to? And her only visitors being those she was destined to fall in love with? Of all the punishments she could have been handed, she had to think this was one of the more merciful. Not to mention, she was a beautiful Goddess; perhaps she could even convince the men who appeared...  


Later, she would berate her own ignorance, remembering her mother's words of caution that the nicer a gift from the Gods seemed to be, the more terrible it probably was.  


(She eventually wrote this in her journal, too).

___****__** ** _ _ _

…

___****__** ** _ _ _

Odysseus was a hero in every sense of the word: handsome, strong, brave, chivalrous. Had the Gods crafted someone purely to torture her, they couldn't have done any better than him. As they shared meals and walked the length of her island, he recounted stories of enemies he had slain, damsels he had saved, and battles he had won. She could never quite determine how long he'd stayed with her, but certainly long enough to make her fall in love. Long enough to make her believe he might stay.  


He stroked her hair and apologized quietly before he slipped away into the night, and Calypso vowed she would never be so naive again: no matter how heroic and kind they were, none would ever stay.  


It was the night he left that she wrote her most important lesson in her book, scratching it so intently it ripped through the paper her first attempt.

___****__** ** _ _ _

…

___****__** ** _ _ _

It was many years of solitude (sometimes she considered it a merciful peace, other times it was bitter loneliness) before Drake washed up on her shore. If Odysseus had been the epitome of hero, then Drake was the exotic adventurer. After thousands of years with nothing more interesting than her garden, his stories of traveling the seas and discovering far-off lands seemed endlessly fascinating.  


She did not watch him sail away, instead stomping to her book and outlining the “never” in her most important lesson until it bled through to the other side, crying until she could not see straight. 

___****__** ** _ _ _

...

___****__** ** _ _ _

The _gifts_ from the Gods only grew worse every time, like the Gods thought it was some sort of game - more attractive, kinder, more heroic. She bitterly pictured them laughing in their thrones. _50 points if you make her cry! 100 if she falls hopelessly in love!_  


So when Percy Jackson flew onto her beach glowing brightly with a flash of light, she almost cried on first sight. He didn't tell her stories about his battles and successes, but rather made her laugh (Calypso quickly decided that making a girl laugh was the worst thing you could do to her).  


This demigod was kind, and charming, and polite, and despite her best efforts not to, Calypso found herself falling within a week. At least, for the first time, she managed to keep herself from believing even for a moment that he would stay. It didn't break her heart any less when he disappeared, but at least it was no surprise. When Percy Jackson gazed at her wistfully as he floated away from her shore, the hollow promises of returning still echoing in her ears, she thought she finally knew the extent of the Gods' cruelty.  


She didn't even bother going over her most important lesson the night he left, but the next morning she added another: never trust a man who can make you laugh. 

___****______ _ _ ** ** _ _ _

...

___****______ _ _ ** ** _ _ _

Each time she thought she had learned, and each time the Gods showed her a new level of cruelty beyond what she believed possible, so she really should have known when Leo Valdez crash-landed on her dining table that he would be the worst of all.  


By that point, she'd given up on being desirable and sweet and helpful. She'd learned her lesson; they would fall for her just enough to feel bad about it, but never enough to do more. No matter how beautiful she was, no matter what glittering dress she wore, no matter how delicious the food and peaceful the island, they would leave in the end. Why bother trying to make them fall in love with her? Didn't that only make it worse – for both involved – when they left? Maybe if she didn't try to charm them, at least they could leave with dry eyes and light hearts. She would have thought the tears and regretful gaze would make it a little better, some petty consolation, but that stung worst of all.  


And so she made no particular effort to make this strange, lanky boy fall for her. She did not offer him glamorous meals, or insist he sleep in her heavenly bed that would make itself in the morning, or take him for strolls in her impressive gardens. She did not treat him nicely, or braid glittering stones into her hair, or wear the dresses she knew had made the boys before him gape shamelessly. And she certainly did not laugh at his ridiculous jokes (or, at least, she tried her very hardest not to).  


Instead, she did her best to ignore his presence, only speaking to him to complain about his endless hammering and fires raging into the night. After a few nights, she felt pity enough that she began bringing him meals when he stopped eating. Every time she thought one of them might be warming up to the other, she lashed out a harsh comment or smacked his scrawny arms or huffed away.  


It was easier for everyone that way.

___****______ _ _ ** ** _ _ _

…

___****______ _ _ ** ** _ _ _

With all the heroes before him, she had been fully aware that it was coming. Although she did make a valiant effort to stop it, especially by the time Percy appeared, she knew from the moment they arrived on her beach that she would inevitably fall for them. With Leo, she'd seen immediately that it was different; he was lanky, wild, ridiculous, and most certainly not a hero. It didn't make sense that the Gods would send someone such as him to her, but she was relieved that at least she wouldn't have to worry about broken hearts this time.  


Which is why it came as such a great surprise to her the first time he made her blush. All he had said was something stupid about the time he'd accidentally gotten so excited about a development in his ship he'd burned everything but his underwear off, and Calypso had found herself red in the face as she laughed at him. When he smiled goofily at her, her hand slipped up to mess with her braid. It only took her a moment to recognize the rush flowing through her body, and suddenly it became painfully obvious: she hadn't even thought to guard her heart or make an effort to stop herself from falling for him. 

She hadn't thought she would need to.  


Instinctively, she called him an idiot and stormed away, as far away as possible. She smacked him or berated him whenever he said something too adorably stupid or grinned at her playfully – now out of fear rather than annoyance – but the damage was already done; she'd let the stupid boy into her heart before she even considered that a possibility. 

___****______ _ _ ** ** _ _ _

…

___****______ _ _ ** ** _ _ _

She didn't even realize it was happening until she was standing beside him at his workbench, wearing a plain white t-shirt and jeans. She hadn't worn an outfit so simple since... actually, she'd never worn anything like that before. There had always been a need – a desire – to be as beautiful, as impossible to resist as she could. Even before her curse, she'd always striven to showcase her beauty as much as possible.  


Leo whistled some peppy tune and handed her a wrench without looking at her, like she was a coworker, a friend.  


A mortal.  


She'd wished for many things, in her endless loneliness. Most often that a hero would actually love her enough to stay, but hundreds of others had come to her: that she'd find a way out on her own, that the Gods would suddenly develop a heart and let her go, that they'd at least forget about her and leave her to suffer without heroes dropping in to tear her apart every time she thought she'd healed. But mortal? She'd never even considered...  


Some oil dripped off the table and stained her jeans. Even though she hadn't been off the island in thousands of years, she was fairly certain what Leo was whistling was no real song.  


Leo Valdez would die. Sometime soon. Or, soon relative to how long she had existed. If she were mortal, so would she. A few decades, maybe.  


“I never realized someone could be a tone deaf _whistler_.”  


He stopped abruptly and glared at her.  


_But maybe that would be enough_ , she found herself thinking before she could stop it.

___****______ _ _ ** ** _ _ _

____…._ _ _ _

___****______ _ _ ** ** _ _ _

____Calypso felt the breath catch in her throat. Heroes though they may be – and certainly full of empty promises- not one of them had ever promised a future to her before. None of them had even acknowledged that there was a future, that there was anything other than this. They'd never breached the topic of what would happen when they left, as if by not mentioning it they could feel better about leaving her here.  
____

___But here he was, explaining his plans for their Machine Shop. Not his future – theirs. For a moment she was certain he was only teasing, perhaps unaware of how cruel that was. But after a moment she saw it in his eyes: he meant it. His eyes began glowing and blazing, like a fire inside him ignited.  
_ _ _

___She forced herself to look away. In the end, it didn't matter. He wouldn't stay, she couldn't leave, and he couldn't come back.  
_ _ _

___Somehow, it stung worse than the empty promises that he actually believed it._ ... __

____

Calypso thinks that perhaps the worst part about Leo was his kiss. Thankfully, Percy had the decency never to lead her on in that way, but she shared many kisses and lingering touches with the others. Every kiss she had shared with either of them was exactly the way you'd imagine kissing a Goddess on a cursed island when you had a wife in another world – passionate, fiery, intense: how you would kiss your summer fling, your mistress, your first girlfriend. 

____

But with Leo, even if he hadn't been expecting it, it was simple. Sweet. Calm. It was the kind of kiss you could share every day for the rest of your life. And she couldn't help but think that if the others kissed her like a fling, Leo had kissed her like a wife.  


____

... 

____

__Sometimes – usually when she passes the apple tree in her garden where he once made a picture of her entirely from apple seeds – she thinks of Odysseus, and particularly strong winds always remind her of Drake, and when she tends to Moonlace she thinks of Percy Jackson.  
_ _

___But Leo – Leo is everywhere: in the curtain above the kitchen that now hangs straight, and the fountain inside her garden that flows flawlessly, and the once uneven legs of her favorite chair that now sit perfectly still, and everywhere everywhere _everywhere_. Sometimes she sits in her garden for hours, for the sole reason that he never touched anything there.  
_ _ _

___He stormed into the island and repaired all the broken parts and pieces of her world, like fixing was the only thing he knew. But he disappeared as suddenly as he arrived, and despite the whirling cogs of his mind and fingers twitching to fix, he left her more broken than ever._ _ _

__

___****______ _ _ ** ** _ _ _

____..._ _ _ _

___****______ _ _ ** ** _ _ _

____In all honesty, Leo Valdez is not what Calypso thinks of as a hero. He is scrawny. He is short. He is not muscular. He cracks jokes far too often and cannot be serious for a moment. He sometimes gets so excited that he **lights himself on fire**. This is not that kind of man epics and poems will be written about. People will not pass the story of him on to their children.  
____

__And Calypso thinks it's because he's not much of a hero that Leo Valdez is the one who comes through. The one who comes **back** , pulls her onto his metal dragon, and whisks her off into the sunset._ _

___****______ _ _ ** ** _ _ _


End file.
